"One Sick Puppy"  wrote in message   
   news:44BBF0CF.9040701@HotMail.com...   
   > Story: Founder's Day  g11   
   >   
   > (Mg pedo nc rape)   
   >   
   >      It was the morning of Founder's Day, and I had an   
   > impulse to take a stroll around the village. Not that I   
   > expected to find anything so early in the day. Usually, it   
   > wasn't until evening -- sometimes late at night -- that   
   > anything turned up. In fact one Founder's Day, several years   
   > ago, I'd found nothing the whole day.   
   >   
   >      That was an unpleasant memory.   
   >   
   >      But today was a warm, sunny, perfect spring day. Maybe   
   > that's what it was - I was feeling a bit of romance in the   
   > air.   
   >   
   >      The village square was mostly deserted, though the   
   > usual retirees occupied their usual benches. I'd always   
   > thought that when I retired, I'd prefer to stay up late at   
   > night and sleep late in the morning, but these folks seemed   
   > to be up and out with the sun every morning. Most of the men   
   > were too old to participate in Founder's Day, and of course   
   > none of the old women were Chosen females. So they just hung   
   > out as usual, though today at least, they did gossip and   
   > reminisce about notable Founder's Days of the past. Mostly   
   > these trips down memory lane annoyed me, since I was so   
   > focused on today, and all the other Founder's Days ahead of   
   > me.   
   >   
   >      Well, like I said, I heeded my impulse and took an   
   > early morning stroll around the square. There were a few   
   > females out -- those, of course, who had not been Chosen in   
   > earlier years. The older they were, the more confident that   
   > they had nothing to worry about this year. Of course, there   
   > was always the possibility of a late Miracle. Ten years ago   
   > a fifty-five year old grandmother had been Chosen. So even   
   > the oldest Unchosen female was always just a bit wary coming   
   > out on Founder's Day. I mean, they all had to come out and   
   > take their chances sometime during the day, but many put it   
   > off as long as possible. Hence usually better hunting later   
   > in the day.   
   >   
   >      Now and then, however, some female imagined that   
   > because the males had lower expectations in the morning,   
   > venturing out early in the day was the best bet. And such   
   > was the case this morning, as it turned out -- to my and the   
   > village's great good fortune.   
   >   
   >      About half way around the square, I ventured into the   
   > Smoke Shop, hoping to have a brief word with Barney, the   
   > proprietor. I stepped through the door, bell jangling, to   
   > announce my arrival -- and stopped. An attractive woman,   
   > early thirties, was making a purchase at the counter. She   
   > turned and looked at me, anxiety briefly flashing across her   
   > face. She need not have worried. I got no Spark from her.   
   > She was not a Chosen one, at least not this year.   
   >   
   >      Then I saw the real source of her anxiety. Standing   
   > next to her holding her hand was a young girl, perhaps ten   
   > years old, certainly no older than twelve. She had brown   
   > hair, was a bit on the slender side, but clearly destined to   
   > fill out quite adequately as she grew. Rather ordinary   
   > looking, most might say, though perfectly attractive.   
   > Although Founder's Day was a school holiday, she was dressed   
   > in the school uniform of the time -- short pleated skirt,   
   > reaching down no further than mid-thigh according to this   
   > year's fashion, white blouse and black tie. The standard   
   > black patent leather school shoes, buffed shiny and with a   
   > bit of a heel to raise the buttocks, graced her white   
   > stocking feet.   
   >   
   >      And then the girl herself turned to look at me. Big,   
   > brown, deep eyes gazed out at me from a special private   
   > world -- a hungry world, a world of void and longing,   
   > yearning for both release and extinction at one and the same   
   > time.   
   >   
   >      My cock throbbed -- a Chosen female, like none I'd ever   
   > encountered.   
   >   
   >      It was not her age that made her so unusual, though   
   > females were in fact rarely Chosen before age 14 or 15.   
   > Within living memory there had been a number of cases of   
   > Chose pre-teen girls -- one as young as nine (although that   
   > was nearly twenty years ago, when I was a young teenager   
   > just beginning to experience the Spark).   
   >   
   >      This girl has been passed over last year. But  in the   
   > three hundred and sixty four days since the last Founder's   
   > Day, she had come mysteriously into her own, and now   
   > unknowingly announced herself to whomever could feel the   
   > Spark. Barney, fortunately for me, was one of those minority   
   > of males who never felt it, and so had noted nothing special   
   > about the girl.   
   >   
   >      The mothers of course never knew when or even if their   
   > daughters would be Chosen, since being females they never   
   > felt the Spark. Some rare females were links in a long chain   
   > of Chosen females, and could count on one of their daughters   
   > being Chosen, as they and their mothers had been, but   
   > heredity played only a small role most of the time.   
   >   
   >      I saw a twinge of flight in this mother's face, but she   
   > stood where she was. Even managed a smile at me. Every   
   > mother, in the moment when her daughter was Chosen, felt the   
   > impulse to snatch their girls away and flee, but in most   
   > cases they felt bound to their duty, and rarely had to be   
   > hunted down.   
   >   
   >      I approached the girl.   
   >   
   >      "Hi, darling," I said to her, "how are you?"   
   >   
   >      "Fine," the girl responded, her deep eyes pulling me   
   > in.   
   >   
   >      "She's beautiful," I said to the mother, stroking the   
   > girl's long hair. "What's her name?"   
   >   
   >      "Laura," she said in a shaky voice.   
   >   
   >      Laura was just under five feet . I ran my hand over her   
   > face, down her arm and across her back.   
   >   
   >      "Is she..." the mom asked.   
   >   
   >      "Oh, yes," I said, my own voice trembling with   
   > excitement. This girl had a powerful presence, but one she   
   > hadn't even discovered for herself. I felt it though. My   
   > cock felt it too, knocking against the tightened fabric of   
   > my pants. The mom saw the bulge, and knew that her daughter   
   > would soon belong to the village.   
   >   
   >      I ran my hand down felt her sweet buttocks. She herself   
   > began to tremble at my touch.   
   >   
   >      "Mommy..." she pleaded, a bit afraid.   
   >   
   >      "It's alright, darling," the mom comforted her.   
   > "Remember what we talked about, the special honor that comes   
   > to some girls?"   
   >   
   >      "Yes, I do, but..."   
   >   
   >      The mom leaned down and kissed her girl on the cheek --   
   > a goodbye kiss.   
   >   
   >      I slipped my hand under the girl's skirt and felt the   
   > smooth soft fabric of her panties, stretched as tight over   
   > her ass cheeks as my pants over my cock. My finger pushed   
      
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